


Bandit

by Katblu42



Series: Wheel of Whump spin stories [1]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Fluff, Young Tracys (Thunderbirds)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 15:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30074316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katblu42/pseuds/Katblu42
Summary: Gave the Whump Generator Wheel a spin and got Help Eating and Vent for Gordon.The spark of inspiration that resulted was definitely demanding fluff instead of whump.  It also suggested young Tracys.
Series: Wheel of Whump spin stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2212689
Kudos: 4





	Bandit

At first he thought he was imagining it, but over the course of the last hour the little scratching noises had increased. It was distracting him from his homework. Something was inside his bedroom wall, he was sure of it. Gordon wondered whether he should tell one of his brothers. More specifically one of his older brothers. Telling Alan would only get the kid excited and make rescuing whatever animal was stuck in the wall more difficult.

Scratch. Scuffle, scratch, scrabble, scratch.

As quietly as he could, he slid the chair back from his desk, tip-toed to the wall and pressed his ear against it. Nothing. He almost gave up, thinking perhaps whatever it was had gone somewhere else, or fallen asleep, then he heard a quiet swooshy movement – the kind his hand might make if he brushed it against the wall. Scratch, scratch. It was close now. Low down, near the floor. His eyes swept along the skirting board until he spotted the vent on the other side of his desk.

Hmm. If he could get the vent open maybe he could spot the animal stuck in the wall and maybe even get it out. On close inspection of the 8” by 6” vent cover he could see it was attached to the wall with 4 small screws. He’d need tools. And maybe snacks to encourage the animal to come out. And maybe a box or something to put the creature in until he could relocate it outside. Yep, he had a plan. He darted out of the room to collect the items he needed.

Wham! He darted straight into Virgil.

“Whoa! Where’s the fire?” Virgil caught hold of him by the shoulders, steadying him and making sure he was not about to hurt himself after bouncing off his bigger brother’s chest.

“Ooof! Sorry, Virg.” Gordon spoke almost at the same time, made sure his feet were solidly planted again and shrugged away from Virgil’s grip. Curiosity and concern burned down at him from beneath raised eyebrows. He felt his own eyes betray him as he glanced back towards his room and back up to meet his brother’s gaze.

“What are you hiding in there?”

“Nothing, I swear!” Gordon put his hand over his heart. “It’s just . . . there’s a . . . I was just going to . . .” He sighed – a physical thing involving his whole body – and his gaze fixed firmly on the floor for a moment. When he finally looked back up at Virgil the familiar expression of patient calm he found there gave him the encouragement he needed. “I think there’s an animal stuck in my wall and I need to get some stuff so I can see if I can rescue it.”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow. That was all it took. Gordon knew he had an ally. He showed Virgil the vent he wanted to open, described the noises he’d heard and waited impatiently with his bigger brother until they both heard the noises again. Virgil agreed to help him open the vent, suggesting a box to catch the animal in was a must, but perhaps they should hold off on the snacks until they discovered what type of animal it was and therefore what it might eat, and whether it needed coaxing out of the wall space.

While Virgil went to collect the right type of screwdriver and a couple of other tools (just in case), Gordon prepared a makeshift animal carry box. He dumped the dirty laundry out of the plastic laundry bin from the corner of his room. Its sides were a kind of latticework that would ensure the animal could still breath when he placed the lid on top. He lined the bottom of the bin with a few towels so the creature would be comfy.

Virgil returned with the tools and a flashlight. Together they moved Gordon’s desk so they had more room to work around the vent. Virgil made short work of the removal of the first 2 screws.

“Get ready with that nest of yours, Gordon,” he said as he lined up the screwdriver on the third screw. “Hold it close to the wall, below the vent, just in case the cover swings loose and the animal makes a run for it.”

It was at that moment Gordon remembered Virgil had a fairly strong dislike of rats and mice. The expression of grim determination on his brother’s face suggesting he was forcing himself to continue his task despite the fear made Gordon feel kind of proud of him.

The third screw was removed, but the vent cover stayed firmly in place. Virgil moved on to the last screw and Gordon kept the re-purposed laundry bin in place. This last one proved difficult to remove, rusted in place. With a grunt from Virgil and a slight cracking sound the screw finally began to move, and within a few turns of the screwdriver was moving more freely. Once all the screws were out Virgil had to use a flat bladed driver to prise the top of the vent cover free from the wall. Before removing it all the way he glanced at his younger brother, who nodded in confirmation that he was ready. The cover came off the vent and . . . nothing happened.

Gordon let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and put the laundry basket nest down. The sudden release of tension in Virgil’s shoulders indicated his brother probably felt much the same way as he put the vent cover down, resting it against the wall.

“Let’s take a look,” Virgil suggested as he reached for the flashlight. “See if we can see who’s in here, or something to show us what we might be dealing with.”

Gordon inched himself closer so he could see inside the vent as Virgil clicked on the flashlight and aimed it into the darkness. The beam of light illuminated a small section of flexible ducting before it curved upward. Both brothers felt a little deflated at this result until they heard the scuffling noise close by. Remaining silent and keeping the flashlight beam steady, they waited and were rewarded by the sudden appearance of a pair of eyes glowing back at them from a black, white and grey banded furry face.

“It’s a raccoon,” Virgil stated with an audible sigh of relief. “It must have made a hole in the ducting there near the bend, look.”

As the little furry head disappeared again Gordon could just make out the ragged edges of the hole Virgil was trying to catch in the flashlight beam. A frown creased his forehead as his attention turned to how they were going to get the little guy out.

“What are you thinking, Gordon?”

“Do you think Alan’s small enough to crawl in there and rescue Bandit?”

The look of horrified surprise on his big brother’s face, which quickly flickered through a glare in response to Gordon’s mischievous smile, before settling on mild confusion greatly amused the younger boy.

“You named the racoon Bandit?”

“Yep.”

“And you know Alan wouldn’t fit in there, and even if he did we would not be sending him in there after a wild animal.” Virgil’s eye roll and head shake just amused Gordon more.

“I know, but it’s fun to see the faces you make when you think I’m being serious.”

“Ha ha.” Virgil turned off the flashlight and shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, sitting back on his heels. “We’re gonna need to figure out how to get this little guy – Bandit – out of there, and we’re gonna need to tell Dad about this.”

“We do? Why?”

“Because Bandit is only a kit and that means his mom and the rest of his family could be in the house somewhere, probably in the attic.”

“Awww.” Gordon’s features scrunched into his _that’s-so-cute_ face. “Mamma raccoon’s missing one of her babies. We gotta get Bandit back to his family.”

“We have to get him out here first, Squid.”

“Snack time!” Gordon stood up and was two steps towards the door faster than Virgil could react, then he suddenly stopped and turned back. “What do baby raccoons eat?”

Neither brother knew the answer to that question, so a quick internet search was carried out. A trip to the kitchen was made and Gordon returned with two pairs of rubber gloves – because raccoons can carry rabies and it’s best to be as safe as possible – an old baby bottle with a little milk in it and a few different fruits and nuts. They didn’t know whether Bandit had teeth yet or not, so the kit might not be ready for solid foods, but they also weren’t sure if cow’s milk would be suitable for a baby raccoon.

The first attempt at coaxing Bandit out of the vent involved placing a few berries and nuts as far into the ducting as Virgil could reach with the aim of attracting the little raccoon and then luring it out with a trail of food. After a few minutes of waiting the scratching, scuffling noises were heard, a little black nose appeared through the hole in the ducting . . . then disappeared again.

Ten more minutes of waiting and no further activity passed before Gordon decided they should try some banana. He took prime position kneeling on the floor in front of the vent. Virgil moved over beside him aiming the flashlight, and holding the laundry bin nest at the ready. Gordon held a few pieces of smooshy banana in his gloved fingertips and slowly stretched his arm as far into the vent as he could reach. With his arm and the flashlight taking up most of the available opening he had to press his face up near the vent and look through one eye in order to see inside.

The two boys waited silently, listening for the tell-tale noises of movement within the wall cavity. It wasn’t long before Bandit made another appearance, the little black nose twitching as the kit cautiously emerged through the hole and tentatively advanced toward Gordon’s hand. Gordon spoke words of encouragement to Bandit and tried to make coaxing “raccoon noises”.

“Come on, that’s it.” He made a few squeaky sucking noises through his teeth. “Come get some yummy banana.”

The coaxing noises gave way to sounds Virgil recognised as Gordon’s _too-excited-by-the-cute-animal-for-real-words_ vocalisations as Bandit began licking at Gordon’s gloved fingertips and making vocalisations of its own. Each time the kit stopped licking Gordon inched his hand a little nearer to the exit of the vent and Bandit followed, drawn by the tantalising promise of more of the tasty fruit. Bandit’s little paws tried to grab onto Gordon’s fingers, perhaps to stop them moving away, but the gradual progress towards the vent continued.

When Gordon had withdrawn his arm far enough for them to be able to see without the flashlight Virgil turned his attention to the prospect of containing the little critter. He broke off a little more of the banana and placed it on the towels inside the laundry bin to encourage the kit inside. Gordon was talking to Bandit again, softly, soothing, encouraging the kit to keep edging closer to the edge. His hand was all the way out now, held just in front of the opening and Bandit’s head was tentatively peeking out into the room. The little nose still twitched, the tiny paws kept reaching out to hold fingers or bits of mushy banana. Ever so slowly Gordon moved his other hand into position above the vent and while Bandit was busily focusing on the banana smeared hand he gently took hold of the kit and lifted him out. Moving both hands in tandem, and with Virgil bringing the laundry bin close, Bandit was quickly transferred into the little nest. Gordon kept the hand with the food close to Bandit, moving it towards the banana pieces Virgil had placed in there. Soon Bandit was holding a piece of fruit in tiny paws and Gordon withdrew his hand altogether.

Making sure Bandit was as comfortable as possible the boys placed the lid firmly on the laundry bin, and shared a high five. Now they just had to remove the fruit and nuts from the ducting, replace the vent cover, clean up the mess they’d made in Gordon’s room, tell their Dad about Bandit and the potential family of raccoons somewhere in the house, reunite Bandit with the rest of the family and safely rehome all the raccoons. Should be easy, right?

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely no experience with these animals, and I know nothing about housing construction. (I did do some research, but I get very frustrated with research very quickly, so . . . ) If there are any inaccuracies in either department in this story please accept my apology.


End file.
